A Werewolf's sorting
by SexyHero420
Summary: How does one deal with being a werewolf at the age of eleven? How does he deal with riding in a train alone? How does he deal with being sorted into a house he didn't quite expect? With wits and ambition, something only a handful of people have.


Remus Lupin slept through the entire ride to Hogwarts, through the laughs of the 7th years five carts away, jinxes, and possibly illegal curses the older kids were teaching their first year siblings - he slept all through it. When the train came to an abrupt halt, everything and everyone jumped. He was awoken by his bottle of Mountain Dew spilling over his clothes. Luckily, all he had to do was cloak himself up with his robe, to cover up the unfortunate mess dripping across the right side of his body. This was his first year of Hogwarts, a very rare oppurtunity for a werewolf, but the great Albus Dumbledore would see his medical condition be taken care of.

The first years were lead off the train and lead to Hogwarts castle, given a bit of a tour (Remus especially loved the library) and then taken to the grand hall where they would be sorted. Remus tried his best not to look awkward in the crowd of excited first years all talking with each other. Lupin tried to bring himself into a conversation between two muggle boys, but stuttered when he tried to speak, and awkwardly exited out of the conversation he sadly attempted. The sorting hat sorted the first years one by one, of course the beginning was filled with great cheers and celebrating, but died down to slow clapping after about 40 minutes, like all ceremonies do. Finally, it was Lupin's turn.

"Ah, a werewolf, this is a surprise."

"How did you know that?!" Lupin snapped back in retaliation.

A few children laughed, making the poor boy more anxious than he already was.

"Oh relax, nobody can hear you, we're just talking through the mind."

" Wait, so you know about whatever I'm thinking about." Lupin thought back

"Why yes," the sorting hat responded matter of factly,"I know everything that's goi-"

"Wait, but what if somebody was thinking about overthrowing the ministry or starting a war or something, do you just sort them to slytherin?"

"Why whatever do you _mean_?" the sorting hat responded nervously laughing."Anyway, you seem very smart, yes, yes, oh I se-"

"Hold on, how often do they wash you?" Lupin interrupted, now noticing how old the sorting hat was.

"THAT QUESTION IS UNNECESSARY!" the sorting hat retailiated, now noticing that instead of speaking through the mind, he screamed that out. The sorting hat coughed,"Mhm Mhm, so sorry my fellow students,' followed by murmurs and giggles across the room.

"Do you know how unsanitary that is?!"

"My cleanliness is none of your business!"

"It is my business when you have a thousand-year-old lice!"

"Says the person with Mountain Dew spilled to their knees."

"At least it's not thousands of years old."

"Shut up you wet dog!"

"What did you call me, you sentiant piece of clothing?!"

The sorting hat and Lupin argued about personal hygiene for about fifteen more minutes -an extremely long time for sorting, until the Slytherin teacher, Professor Slughorn interrupted.

"Now, Now", Slughorn beamed,eyeing the sorting hat, who had more folds and wrinkles now than it ever did before."I'm sure we can we can come to a resolution on where Mr. Lupin fits in.

In a swift move the sorting hat reacted,"Go find a place where YOU can fit . You obese twat!"

All the houses including a few Slytherins roared in laughter and claps, oohing and ahhing at the burn the sorting hat just left on Slughorn.

A Ravenclaw boy shouted,"Oh wrecked by a hat!"

This resulted in a roast beef being thrown at the boy, and a Gryffindor crying out,"FOOD

FIGHT!"

Suddenly, mashed potatoes, cakes, bread, and varieties of food were being thrown from all directions, students catching them all over their uniform, and pieces of food landing in their hair, and being drenched by purposefully spilled drinks.

"Ah, screw it," the sorting hat belched, "Ah screw it, with that nerve,you are a GRYFFINDOR!."

There were no cheers, since everyone was involved in the food fight, but Remus could not have loved it more. He hated that sort of attention and climbed under the Ravenclaw table, heading to the library, a place where he always felt free.

Meanwhile, at the table in the very end of the room where the teachers sat, Mcgonagall turned to Dumbledore,"Albus, shouldn't you do something?" she asked drinking a cup of wine, watching the other teachers try their best to stop the food fight, failing in the process.

Dumbledore chuckled,"Minerva tell me what you see in their faces. Disgust? Hatred?"

She snickered,"I see laughter, delight, and excitement."

"Exactly, so why ruin the fun?" Dumbledore stated as he poured himself a cup of wine, filling it to the rim,''Drink up. The next seven years are going to be...interesting, so...to the next generation," Dumbledore cheered as they clinked their cups.

"To the next generation," Mcgonagall sighed, pursing her lips.

And with that they drank, unbeknownst to them that they should've poured way more than just one cup of wine.


End file.
